Aeterno
by Tricked Wings
Summary: Eternity can grow rather dull, but some wish it would already. Demons have to commit a certain amount of mischevious acts to remain on Earth, but one hasn't done anything remarkably negative for well over a century. All luck should go to him for acquiring an idea on what could be done to stay on the surface. - Merthur. Supernatural!AU of sorts.


Aeterno

_Chapter One_

* * *

Demons were often times completely misconstrued by modern mythology and lore. Many depictions of them, dating back to the days of the early church—and perhaps even before then—portray inhuman creatures with many animalistic traits; horns, tails, hooves, and the like. Red eyes and pitchforks did their image no help, either.

One could not help but ponder at times if this is what these spiritual creatures actually look like. After all, the world's lore was, more often than not, a giant game of 'Telephone', in which reality was skewed and actuality was forgotten.

It was most definitely a surprise that demons had yet to collect a party of social justice workers; picketing and protesting the racist image of demons everywhere. After all, almost every other single group of humans had done the same, yet they continued to perpetuate the same exact image of demons that was false, and, in the opinion of many, just plain revolting.

Though, according to early and contemporary humans, the traits that the portrayals of demons had were classically "evil", so they supposed that was some sort of accomplishment on their behalf. One couldn't go through eternal existence without some kind of detrimental deed to their name, of course. It was their nature; it was what they did. At least, it was what _most_ of them did.

Not that all of them didn't at least attempt to commit a heinous act more than once. It was just that, in all honesty—which was incredibly ironic coming from a demon—not all plans worked to their full potential because, sadly, humans had as much free will as demons. Alas, what comes with free will is also the ability to avoid unwanted mishaps on more than one occasion. The avoidance of such happenstances is what frustrates many demons, no pun intended, to Hell.

The frustrated demons were not among the majority of the demented spirits, but their numbers were growing every day, as with each passing day, humans became less and less susceptible to their mischief.

That was why, for a demon in particular, the late 20th century and early 21st century were the absolute worst possible times to be brought into the world. Humans were no longer "superstitious", as they referred to their prior beliefs in all things supernatural. They had convinced themselves that creatures of any realm—including the spirit realm—outside of theirs was ludicrous, and refused to believe any of it. In the eyes of many, demons and angels alike, this appeared ignorant and unacceptable, as well as just plain stupid.

Many tried to change the thought-system of the humans when it came to such matters, but the humans always brushed it off by explaining it away using "science" or some other such nonsense that no one outside of them took part in. Science itself was all but ludicrous, especially what the humans believed about it; even the demons could see that.

However, the days of fearing miniature creatures holding pitchforks and hissing with forked tongues was long over, it seemed, for the human race. This resulted in demons being _incredibly_ _bored_, and boredom has never suited well with such mischievous beings.

To elaborate, the fact that certain demons with greater influence got bored a whole lot easier than ones with naught, and because of their 'greater influence', they could obviously have more of an impact on the human world. This was not necessarily the greatest, as boredom tends to brings out the worst in all of us, so one can only imagine what the worst would possibly be out of a creature that's already presumed to be supremely evil.

This was why the world had been going to Hell for quite some time. Though some human media may have tried to spread the message of "with great power comes great responsibility, these were _demons_, for Lucifer's sake, and they were not about to practice and contribute to any of that human nonsense. The nonsense that was fed to them by angels, granted, but nonsense nonetheless.

No, instead, demons with an impressive amount of power caused things like poverty and famine. The downfalls of many governments could be attributed to demons, such as the Nazi party of Germany during World War II. Such things were the visible handiwork of such demons, and they cackled in a corner, impressed with their deeds as they saw countries fall, sometimes with a cracking monarchy, but other times due to becoming billions of dollars in debt. They would exchange malicious congratulations, feast on pork, and then figure out what their next plot would be.

Others, unfortunately, did not have nearly as magnificent of accomplishments. Sometimes, small things would have to suffice under the eyes of the King of Hell, not that they always did.

That is, in fact, how one tall, gangly demon in particular found himself in trouble during one particularly sunny day.

"Lucifer is becoming rather disgruntled concerning you," a rather unpleasant demon said. Her eyes were narrowed and her arms were crossed, and a completely disapproving expression seemed to be permanently plastered onto her face.

He rolled his eyes in response, conveying silent sarcasm in a way only a demons could. "Since when is he not disgruntled, Morgana? He's always pissy. It's his _job_ to be pissy."

How she had found him to begin with, he was quite unsure. Sure, demons could detect other demons, but they weren't like the angels with their damn unique radio stations built into their heads. What he would've really liked to know was how she was able to force herself into his house with all of the warding sigils he had plastered all over the place. He didn't particularly enjoy other demons, especially younger ones, and he held a disdain for demonic attention in general.

The female demon sighed exasperatedly before electing to ignore his comment and continue. "What have you done as of late that's been detrimental to the human race?"

Pausing for a second to recollect all of his misdeeds in the past given decade, it dawned on him that he'd done nothing frighteningly negative for well over a century. Well, nothing _really_, outside of… "Friday," he responded quickly, relieved that he'd remembered it at the last moment.

Exasperation was replaced with an expression of pure confusion on Morgana's face. "What the fuck are you going on about, Merlin?" She asked, her voice raising an octave as she tried to remain calm. "The days of the week were around long before you were even conceived!"

"Not the day," was Merlin's irritated reply. Obviously the infamous Internet sensation had yet to make its way all the way down to the depths of Hell. "The music video. By Rebecca Black. I was the one who came up with the song and convinced the human man to write it and that it was amazing. Amazing enough that he made it into a horrid music video." He'd always been proud of that achievement, even if it had occurred two years ago. "I was also on the production staff," he added. "That's why the auto-tune is so awful. It's always rewarding to use the humans' technology against them. Can you believe my video got hits faster than Justin Bieber?" I beat the record of whatever demon came up with the idea to get him famous."

Morgana facepalmed. "Justin Bieber was one of the angels' fuck-ups. Us demons had nothing to do with _that_. Now the like bar comments relating to his dick, that was another weak demon invention." She started pacing around Merlin as soon as her sentence was finished, and it caused Merlin to start becoming rather uncomfortable. "Now, have you achieved anything _useful_ to us?" A chilly bite was in her voice, and it made Merlin even more anxious.

"Well, um…" He'd though that the Rebecca Black video was positively horrible and unnecessarily torturous, and that he'd done right by it. Apparently, in the eyes of Hell, he'd been wrong. "Not exactly…"

"'Not exactly'?!" Morgana screeched, losing all faux-cool she had previously managed to maintain. "You do realise what this means, right?!"

"Well…" Merlin sighed. "No."

"It means you're going to get sent back to Hell, dipshit!" she exclaimed. "And then everyone there is going to have to put up with your pathetic arse, and you know what? That's just going to make everything down there more Hell-ish than it already is!" Morgana was panting, out of breath from the shouting and minute panic attack she'd just had.

Merlin knew the severity of this thread. Demons hated Hell just as much as humans, if not more so because they were forced to live there. However, he could not resist making light of Morgana's phrasing. "Seeing as it _is_ Hell, shouldn't it already be Hell-ish? I mean, how could Hell be _more_ Hell-ish? It is Hell, after all," he said coolly, acting as though he had neither a care in the world nor the possibility of getting dragged back to Hell by Lucifer himself. Not that that was a distinct possibility because it wasn't; Lucifer would never busy himself with such insignificant labour.

Morgana's hands formed fists and she growled with frustration. "You know exactly what I mean, Merlin. You're useless here on the surface. In fact, your position here would be much better suited to someone else. Perhaps Mordred. I've trained him so well, after all," she said thoughtfully, having calmed down from the beginning of her short-lived monologue.

"No, no, no," Merlin said quickly, nearly matching the pace of his words with the shaking of his head. "I am not going to have that _child_ taking my place! Oh, Morgana, there must be something I can do." Desperation made itself audible in Merlin's voice, and Morgana's expression softened. Though by softening, a demon's features more often than not became nothing short of malicious.

Her sickeningly sweet voice made an appearance due to Merlin's "rebel against Hell" attitude dropping by metres. "Why, _of course_ there's a way to keep your place," she said, sounding more condescending than usual.

Merlin was quiet and waited for her to continue, but she stayed silent as well. Huffing impatiently, he said, "And what might that way be?" The urge to tap his foot in an exaggerated display of his impatience was annoyingly strong, and he wished Morgana would simply hurry up and supply him with her damn answer.

"It's quite simply, really," she announced after a moment. "And it should be even easier than normal, given a demon of _your_ calibre," she added, as patronising as ever. "All you need to do is get one of Hell's most wanted."

Merlin stared at her in confusion for a moment before saying, "What?"

She sighed once again, which was not nearly as normal for her to display as her patronising attitude, but it seemed to be commonplace now. "There is a select group of humans that both Heaven and Hell want; obviously for different reasons. If you're able to get one of these humans to sell their soul, or just flat-out die without heading upstairs, I'm sure it will prove to Lucifer that you are worth something up here."

To Merlin, this plan sounded easy enough, but the ease of it was probably all a charade. He was dealing with his own kind, after all, and Morgana was an exceptionally better demon than he was, despite being a demon for a good hundred years less than him. "And what's the catch?" he asked suspiciously.

Morgana laughed. She must've figured he would suspect such a thing. "Think about it for five seconds of your life. It's painfully obvious these people are wanted by opposite sides for completely opposite reasons. That alone should be enough for you to figure it the fuck out," she added casually.

"I would say that one of them is the Pope, though I don't know what use he'd have in Hell," Merlin contemplated aloud, and he could've sworn he heard Morgana mutter 'none' under her breath. "Morgana, just give me the answer on this one," he continued, a miniscule whine seeping into his tone. "I honestly have no idea."

She stared at him blankly. For what felt like a century before saying, "You've really never encountered one of them before, have you?" The brunette went on to carry on with her quizzical gaze, and it was starting make Merlin rather uncomfortable.

"Never encountered a what?" he asked, feeling the emerald eyes of the other demon continue to try to penetrate his very being. He would've said soul, but that would have been incredibly ironic and borderline stupid.

"A _hunter_," Morgana said, a hiss entering her speech when the latter word left her lips. Disdain was held in her tone, and, now that Merlin knew what she was talking about, he could not possibly blame her in the slightest.

"Yeah, no, I don't think so," was his swift reply. "I'm sorry, Morgana, and apparently every other damned resident of Hell since I'm heading back there. I much prefer my arse _without_ holy water being spilt on it, thanks."

Though Merlin had never personally encountered a hunter, he'd heard multiple horror stories over the years from demons that had. Hunters were humans who actually acknowledged the existence of demons, angels, and various other monsters as more than just folklore—as fact. They would take it upon themselves to track down these so called "supernatural"—though Merlin was perfectly natural, thank you very much—creatures and "gank" them; kill them, in layman's terms. Unfortunately for demons, ganking didn't always result in death. No, in fact, often times it consisted of a beyond painful exorcism, after being tortured with salt, holy water, and the like. In short, hunters were completely wretched human beings who needed to off themselves already, and were most definitely not a group of humans Merlin was remotely eager to associate with.

"I'm sorry, lamb," Morgana said spitefully, obviously not sorry at all, especially since she'd used that god-awful nickname. Lambs were a symbol of purity and righteousness; Merlin contained neither. "But that's the only way you get to stay on Earth. If not, well… a much more resourceful, daring, and just plain _useful_ demon will be sent in your place. One who _doesn't_ make irritating music videos and call himself evil because of them." She sounded downright disgusted. "Au revoir."

Just like that, Merlin was alone once more.


End file.
